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.He let go his hold some on the one nearly strangled to give his trousers a hike.Still unsure about hitting, Arjuna went at his pants as a seamstress might in taking up the slack.The old man gave his pants a tug, one side then the other, as if this would set things right or situate positive all that made life wretched in this world: hunger, poverty, disease.When Arjuna appeared to have settled the matter with his pants, though issues remained, he viewed with equal eye the eternal restlessness of all in the Valley of Flowers.He stared at this wild.He added a few half-practice swings for no good reason."He might cut down on his pace," said Nicolas softly so no one could hear.Yes, that would be one thing he could do, agreed another inside."Among many," chimed in the first, in a voice nobody could possibly catch.He’s doing his best as coach or life guide, said the second from within.But he cannot be expected to do everything.Nicolas told himself also, Well, it is true he is good with his life-fielding drills.He is good with his strategies too, said this one who made the other stay quiet inside.Of this there is no smidgen of doubt.But he cannot be expected to do everything.Arjuna viewed his chosen landing spot out on the fairway.He focused on one spot two hundred or so meters out.The old man stood ready to make any minute now an attempt at it by not thinking too much.He had always believed it was best to step up simply, concentrate on a particular color, an ocean-blue maybe, then swing all out.Nevertheless, Arjuna understood once age catches up with any morning walker he is put back more times than he gets going forward.With this knowing gift, the old man smiled at his current predicament.He became happy, fully aware where he was now physically, and from how amusing this must seem to those standing by waiting patiently.To combat his known deficits, he thought to just breathe in deep and relax.The value of the breath or breathing correctly is underrated, considered the old man.He thought how much he enjoyed being up in these mountains.Arjuna was happiest, he knew, being in the glorious untamed.He felt glad too being in the company of this fine young fellow.The old man understood well that while held in by age in the immediate present, he was free to travel into his past, and do so whenever he liked.Although he did have yearnings for his drive to attain good height, length, then have it sit up nicely on some turf, he knew it may not happen that way and he was content with that.In performing any life duty, the old man thought it well and good to intellectually plan it first, but then be willing to let go of the intellect, to carry on intuitively, to allow any idea to develop and live as it might.He thought this ideal for his stage in life, known as the sannyasi or one in full retirement.He believed it was best to use his powers of letting go.He felt the intellect, or splendid mind gift should also be used selectively.The old man remembered then welcomed the return of his younger playing self.This one appeared to have arrived directly from that long ago major battlefield.He stood by silently.To get ready more, the old man evoked the three breathings: prana, vyana and apana.This exercise gives all who try it their ultimate strength in performing an endeavor.Arjuna concentrated on this ancient technique in proper breathing.Keep the peace and do not go looking for more excitement, he advised his younger self.This was meant to relax him so he might calmly enjoy the essence.But then a cleanliness drive was started by him.Originally, when Arjuna first set out for Europe, then onto America to play professionally, this routine had begun in fun; however, it soon became a psychic need.Mental fret morphed into all-out physical fuss.Then it went permanent.On the 1st tee of this Himalayan course known as Truind, the old man's nervous energy, based on fear and anxiety, began covering both forearms and pant legs.His one free hand went to wipe the face of the clubhead.He did this in repeated fast motion.Arjuna's hand rose to wipe a bit of sweat off his forehead.In another incarnation of fearing, the old man moistened his left thumb that wiped again the face of the silver-headed driver.That done, he brushed his cheeks with two fingers.He wiped below the nose.This act went up to his forehead to swab what wetness was retained [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.He let go his hold some on the one nearly strangled to give his trousers a hike.Still unsure about hitting, Arjuna went at his pants as a seamstress might in taking up the slack.The old man gave his pants a tug, one side then the other, as if this would set things right or situate positive all that made life wretched in this world: hunger, poverty, disease.When Arjuna appeared to have settled the matter with his pants, though issues remained, he viewed with equal eye the eternal restlessness of all in the Valley of Flowers.He stared at this wild.He added a few half-practice swings for no good reason."He might cut down on his pace," said Nicolas softly so no one could hear.Yes, that would be one thing he could do, agreed another inside."Among many," chimed in the first, in a voice nobody could possibly catch.He’s doing his best as coach or life guide, said the second from within.But he cannot be expected to do everything.Nicolas told himself also, Well, it is true he is good with his life-fielding drills.He is good with his strategies too, said this one who made the other stay quiet inside.Of this there is no smidgen of doubt.But he cannot be expected to do everything.Arjuna viewed his chosen landing spot out on the fairway.He focused on one spot two hundred or so meters out.The old man stood ready to make any minute now an attempt at it by not thinking too much.He had always believed it was best to step up simply, concentrate on a particular color, an ocean-blue maybe, then swing all out.Nevertheless, Arjuna understood once age catches up with any morning walker he is put back more times than he gets going forward.With this knowing gift, the old man smiled at his current predicament.He became happy, fully aware where he was now physically, and from how amusing this must seem to those standing by waiting patiently.To combat his known deficits, he thought to just breathe in deep and relax.The value of the breath or breathing correctly is underrated, considered the old man.He thought how much he enjoyed being up in these mountains.Arjuna was happiest, he knew, being in the glorious untamed.He felt glad too being in the company of this fine young fellow.The old man understood well that while held in by age in the immediate present, he was free to travel into his past, and do so whenever he liked.Although he did have yearnings for his drive to attain good height, length, then have it sit up nicely on some turf, he knew it may not happen that way and he was content with that.In performing any life duty, the old man thought it well and good to intellectually plan it first, but then be willing to let go of the intellect, to carry on intuitively, to allow any idea to develop and live as it might.He thought this ideal for his stage in life, known as the sannyasi or one in full retirement.He believed it was best to use his powers of letting go.He felt the intellect, or splendid mind gift should also be used selectively.The old man remembered then welcomed the return of his younger playing self.This one appeared to have arrived directly from that long ago major battlefield.He stood by silently.To get ready more, the old man evoked the three breathings: prana, vyana and apana.This exercise gives all who try it their ultimate strength in performing an endeavor.Arjuna concentrated on this ancient technique in proper breathing.Keep the peace and do not go looking for more excitement, he advised his younger self.This was meant to relax him so he might calmly enjoy the essence.But then a cleanliness drive was started by him.Originally, when Arjuna first set out for Europe, then onto America to play professionally, this routine had begun in fun; however, it soon became a psychic need.Mental fret morphed into all-out physical fuss.Then it went permanent.On the 1st tee of this Himalayan course known as Truind, the old man's nervous energy, based on fear and anxiety, began covering both forearms and pant legs.His one free hand went to wipe the face of the clubhead.He did this in repeated fast motion.Arjuna's hand rose to wipe a bit of sweat off his forehead.In another incarnation of fearing, the old man moistened his left thumb that wiped again the face of the silver-headed driver.That done, he brushed his cheeks with two fingers.He wiped below the nose.This act went up to his forehead to swab what wetness was retained [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]